


What's In A Name

by charivari



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Chair Sex, M/M, Name worship, Old bot love, Oral Sex, Protective Kup, Rung getting some, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4260612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kup/Rung, post Dark Cybertron/mid-Megatron's trial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In A Name

**Author's Note:**

> BECAUSE I SHIP THIS!

"Not a bad set-up you have here," Kup remarked.

"Ultra Magnus was very generous in assigning me the space," Rung murmured.

He was sitting his usual seat while Kup occupied the patient lounge. 

"Organization is one of his specialties," Kup agreed, "Kid might have had you workin' out of a closet."

"I believe Rodimus wanted to turn this into a recreation room," Rung said, "So I'm fortunate Magnus talked him out of it."

Kup gave a short laugh,

"Good ol' Magnus. Bet Rodimus gets his gears in a twist. Magnus being such a stickler for the rules. Or is he gettin' help for that?"

Rung gave him a look of slight reproach,

"I can't disclose the identities of my patients."

"I know," Kup smirked, "Just seein' if I can trip you up."

"Is that how you want to spend our time together," Rung questioned, "Trying make me break my psychiatric oath?"

Kup's smirk turned into a grin,

"Naw," he hopped off the lounge and ventured closer to Rung, "And I don't care to know which mecha you're treatin'. I can probably guess goin' the line of disturbed personalities. I'm bettin' you have your hands full."

"You're fishing again," Rung pointed out.

"Heh, so I am," Kup brushed Rung's cheek with his fingers, "So how are the others treatin' you?"

"Fine," Rung said a little too quickly.

"Rung..." 

"I try to socialize as much as I can," the psychiatrist assured him, "I don't feel ostracized."

"But..." Kup said, because he could sense a 'but'.

Rung ex-vented,

"They have trouble with my designation."

Kup might have laughed once. Hell, he went by 'old-timer' often enough. He didn't mind. He could beat the energon out of any youngster who mocked him. 

But Rung wasn't one for that kind of confrontation.

And he hated being called the w(rong) designation.

"Point me in their direction," Kup offered, "I'll drill it into their processors."

"That's really not necessary," Rung protested, "It took you a while to learn my name."

For a long time after being introduced during a routine psych exam, it had been 'Doc' or 'Specs'.

"I learnt it in the end though," Kup said, "Who says you can't teach an old bot new tricks."

A smile brightened Rung's face,

"You realize when you call yourself old, you're calling me the same."

"Yeah," Kup grinned, "But you're prettier."

He slipped off Rung's glasses to reveal those eloquent blue optics.

"Flatterer," Rung said.

Kup set the spectacles on Rung's side table and leaned in,

"This tongue o' mine can do more than flatter," he whispered deviously.

Rung tilted his chin slightly,

"Prove it."

The words were soft but daring. All the encouragement Kup needed.

He hungrily claimed the psychiatrist's mouth.

"Rung," he murmured against his lips, low and possessive.

Then, sinking on his knees, mouth against Rung's leaking valve.

"Rung," before he took his first taste in eons (eons of being trapped in the Dead Universe though Kup preferred not to dwell on that).

Then, after Rung's first overload, smashing his wet lips back to his mouth,

"Rung," as he sunk into him, "Rung. Rung."

The repetition wasn't entirely for Rung's benefit - though Kup knew he appreciated it as much as any overload. But saying it gave Kup almost as much pleasure as fragging the designation's owner into his chair. 

Because "Rung" in his processor translated to "mine".

His Rung. His. 

"Rung," sweetly taunting in Rung's audials as the psychiatrist's frame shuddered with secondary overload.

Then, shortly after,

"R-rung!" at the peak of Kup's own overload, a static-laced howl before he collapsed into Rung's arms.

Then a brief interlude of silence, nothing but the whirr of cooling fans.

Kup gathered up Rung's fingers and kissed them fiercely.

"Rung."

Rung pressed his own kiss against the side of grey mech's helm,

"Kup."


End file.
